


just his luck

by lunasea444



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Hospitals, M/M, short drabble really. only depiction of violence is one moment when saihara gets shot but that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 14:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13859367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasea444/pseuds/lunasea444
Summary: Saihara gets caught in a bank robbery that day.-short drabble based off a prompt from writing-prompt-s@tumblr





	just his luck

Saihara had business in the bank that day, he was asked by his uncle to deposit a huge amount of money into his account for the time being. What he didn't account for, however, was the long line and the amount of people during that time of the day. He sighs, waiting out the line. If he had not been stuck in traffic, he wouldn't have had to deal with this, and still have enough time to review case files they had sitting in the agency. Just his luck.  
Gunshots rang. The detective was alert, as the people with him ducked in fear. He quickly reached for his holster— _fuck_ , he mutters under his breath. He didn't have field work that day so he decided against putting on said holster that held his gun. Shit. _Just his luck_.  
Armed people came in, some breaking in through the windows. "Raise your fucking hands and get on the fucking floor!" one of them yelled, but his voice sounded unreal. Saihara takes note of the bowtie sitting on his collar. A voice changer?  
Now that he thinks about it, the armed group wore funny attire. They dressed in all white, bowties decorating their necks, while a variety of clown masks obscured their faces. He racked his brain. Was... this _that_ organization? Why an attack now, when their common operation involved dark night heists?  
"You there!" the same man yelled, and the detective realized that the man was referring to him.  
He froze.  
"I fucking told you all to get on the fucking floor, so why the fuck are you still standing up?"  
Saihara did not have enough time to reply, as the words he was about to yell got caught in his throat and came out as a strangled yell.  
He had been shot in the leg, and crumpled on to the floor. When did the man even—?  
"If any of you don't cooperate, you'll get more than just a bullet on you. That was a warning, pretty boy."  
The raven-haired young man struggled, but he managed to fix a glare at the offending group anyway. One of the perpetrators, a small frame, suddenly inched backwards. He—now that he thought about it, the person seemed like a she—tugged on their leader's arm, and she whispered something to the taller man.  
From under the mask covering half of his face, Saihara could sense his panic. "Shit. Shit, fuck," he mumbled, but it was amplified by his bowtie anyway. "We're busting, move the fuck out!" he yelled, and the group left as quickly as they came.  
So much for that visit to the bank. Instead of doing his errand, he got hospitalized that day. Just his luck.

 

The hospital kept him for a few days. He drifted in and out of consciousness. It felt pathetic, that despite his training in the police force before becoming a detective, he was still physically weak.  
He woke up one night when he felt someone shift in his room. Who was it? His uncle should have left already, since he was busy with the agency. So who...?  
He weakly turned his head to the side, to where a small bench laid. Only this time, the bench that was supposed to be empty was occupied by a small figure.  
... Huh?  
He couldn’t see it properly in the dark, but the person had the same getup as the attackers from days ago, only missing a bowtie, but he can’t be mistaken—this man’s attire was white, for sure. Was he here to finish him off? Quickly, his hand flew to the call-nurse button—  
But the smaller frame was quicker. He knocked away the button from his hand.  
Saihara froze, and he could only look at the intruder as he grabbed his weak wrist.  
... Wait.  
Despite the clown mask obscuring his face, the detective felt like he has seen him before. Where?  
He had fond memories of purple hair flicking upwards that refused to be tamed. This intruder almost had the same hair style as that person... but no, he couldn't tell if his hair was purple... His attacker's grip on his wrist also felt familiar. Though it was a grip, it didn't seem like he intended to twist his arm right then and there. Instead, this person’s hand felt... warm.  
Weak from the days in the hospital, he couldn't choke out words.  
The intruder spoke for him instead.  
"They weren't supposed to harm you," he breathed, exhaustion in his voice. The familiar voice was like a hum into Saihara's ears. "They weren't supposed to harm you, much less _touch you_." He finished, harsh concern dripping in his last syllables.  
The intruder lowered his mask, but it was futile because the subdued detective couldn't see his face in the dark. "Sorry this happened to you. You weren't supposed to be..." he trailed off. Instead of finishing his sentence, the intruder planted a kiss on Saihara's forehead. He would have protested, but he was far too confused and weak to process the situation.  
The intruder just stayed there, by his side, adjusting his grip so that he was holding the patient's hand instead, running circles on it with his thumb. The motion was confusing, but it relaxed Saihara into going back to sleep. In the last sliver of his consciousness while he was awake, he felt lips planted onto his own. He did not resist. It felt nice, and right.

 

The next day, the matron said he could be discharged by that afternoon. Before the woman could walk away, however, he caught her with a question.  
"Um... Did someone stay in my room last night?"  
The matron looked at him, blinking. "No... Mr. Saihara left you around seven last night, and at that point visiting hours were over..."  
Huh. _So it was a dream_...

 

He got discharged late that night instead of the afternoon. His uncle told him to take the week off the agency so he could get some more rest.  
However, he had other plans. He...had the urge to contact that person. Picking up his phone, hoping to god that he still had the same number. It was he himself who broke it off. And since the night at the hospital, he had only felt old regret crawling on his skin. He held the device up his ear. It did not take more than a second when the receiver picked up immediately.  
"Hello~ Who am I speaking to?"  
Saihara smiled to himself, hearing the playful voice for the first time in years. He prepared himself.  
Just his luck.  
"Hello, Ouma-kun? It's me, Saihara. Is it… alright if we see each other?"

Silence on the other line. Seconds that felt like an eternity.

“I’d like… _no_ , I’d _love_ that,” the man on the other side breathed, voice mixed with relief and calm, unlike the childishness it carried when he picked it up.

 _Just his luck_ , Saihara thought once more.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: "During a bank robbery you’re surprised when the criminals seem to recognize you and retreat in fear. Only later do you learn that your high school sweet-heart now runs a global crime syndicate and has you placed on a “No Harm” list. You decide to pay them a visit after all these years." http://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/post/171476655260/during-a-bank-robbery-youre-surprised-when-the
> 
> \--
> 
> short drabble really. i wrote this at like 2 in the morning when i should be asleep, and on my phone no less, so pardon the quick editing job and mistakes. sorry that ouma only appears like... only until the end of the fic and is only mentioned at that point lol... i would write a long story about this but i have no idea how police/detective work goes. i'm an art student. let's just assume that saihara had to break it off with ouma during the first months of their college life when things became unbearable for both of them, and eventually things tumble down from there, ouma takes over his parent's global crime syndicate after they get themselves blown up, etc. really i'm jjust rambling at this point
> 
> thank you for reading everything and this long-ass note!
> 
> edit: i just realized how horrible the formatting for this looks, i tried to fix it on word but i just couldn't. get it to look right for some reason. note to self, write fics on google docs instead of facebook;; 
> 
> come talk to me!  
> atsooshis, lunasea444 @ tumblr  
> lunasea_4 @ twitter  
> sparklesaucer @ facebook


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